


A Lifetime Ago

by NumberOneEverything



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: American Revolution, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Colony America (Hetalia), Colony Canada (Hetalia), Cute, Cute Kids, Cuteness overload, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, French Indian War, Gentle Kissing, Historical Hetalia, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Human & Country Names Used (Hetalia), Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I did some research, I drank 7 cups of coffee, Kissing, M/M, Only brief mentions though, Sad with a Happy Ending, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warning: Donald Trump, but uh, butterfly kisses, seriously I got cavities from reading this, watch hetalia to do your homework
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 11:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NumberOneEverything/pseuds/NumberOneEverything
Summary: Matthew remembers when he was a colony, when France lost the war and England took over him. He remembers when he met America, the little bright eyes colony with a bright smile. He remembers a lot for someone who never gets remembered.Alfred doesn't like seeing his boyfriend sad, and subtly reminds how loved Matthew is.*tons of angst and fluff* *like a bitter, sour apple covered in sweet caramel and sugary sprinkles in the middle of a huge sundae ice cream, except some of the ice cream expired.*Oof, I've lost control of my life, writing fanfic for a dead fandom 😭😭





	A Lifetime Ago

**Author's Note:**

> *Canada is referred as Matthieu in the first parts of this fic
> 
> *France as Papa in Canada's pov, France outside Canada's pov.
> 
> *This is a small note, but Canada's eyes are blue in the beginning but turns violet like in the canon anime.
> 
> *This fic shifts from a sad memory to happy domestic life 
> 
> *Uh, I got cavities from reading this, just saying. I also almost cried reading this, just saying.

_"Hello, Matthieu," Papa greeted with a sad looking smile, "how are you?"_

 

_Matthieu looks up from his paper that he's drawing a makeshift map of, and sees his Papa standing above him. The sunlight behind his Papa's hair makes him look like the angels Papa had shown him once. Matthieu's face lit up in happiness at seeing his Papa once more._

 

_"Hi, Papa!" Matthieu replied with a cheery smile. "I'm making a map of a new town. There are more people like you in my territories. They're nice to my original people."_

 

_Papa smiles again, but it's shaking. Matthieu wondered if he said the wrong thing. Maybe he shouldn't have separated Papa's white people from his own brown skinned Natives? But Papa never cared about that before._

 

_"That's a good thing, Matthieu. That means you can have more friends." Papa said. But he doesn't sound happy like he always do. Why are his eyes so dark? Why do they look red and puffy?_

 

_"Papa...?"_

 

 _"Yes, mon cher fils?"_ My dear son. _Papa had talked to him in French._

 

_"Uhm, Papa, why are your eyes like that?" Matthieu sounds rude, being what Papa told him not to be. He cringes and apologizes._

 

_"Hm? Like what, Matthieu?" Papa asks As he waved off the apology. Matthieu wonders why his Papa keeps saying his name over and over. As if he'll forget his name if he don't say it enough._

 

_"Papa, your eyes are always blue like my oceans. Um, except without any ice. Or fishies. Or other animals," Matthieu rambled on, oblivious to his Papa's shaking form above him, "but now your eyes are all... um... uh, not happy. They don't... uh, sparkle like they always do. Are your eyes broken?"_

 

_Papa looked down at him, dark blue eyes meeting bright yet soft blue. Then Papa cracked a tiny smile, but it doesn't look sad anymore._

 

_"Non, Matthieu." There's his name again. "My eyes are not broken."_

_Matthieu puts his charcoal down, next to his makeshift map. He stands up from the grass  and walks over to Papa. "Then what's wrong?"_

 

_Seeing his colony's bright blue eyes, filled with such innocence and curiosity, France crumbled. How could he not, with the turn of events? With the loss of his 7 year war? With England's terms in the peace treaty they signed?_

 

_"Oh, Matthieu," he says sorrowfully, his eyes filled with pain and regret. "Some very sad things happened and many things will change."_

 

_"Oh." Matthieu says, not fully realizing the situation yet. "Well, it'll all be okay as long as I'm here with you!"_

 

_Matthieu knows he isn't supposed to have dirty hands, or be dirty in general. He knows he isn't supposed to make Papa's expensive clothing with his charcoal-smeared hands. Even though he knew all that, Matthieu walks forward and carefully wrapped his tiny hands around Papa. Matthieu carefully tried not to dirty up his Papa's clothes._

 

_Matthieu is small and tiny, so small he hasn't even reach Papa's waist yet._

 

_France looked down to see his small colony hugging him, comforting him, like the innocent child he is. Not knowing what's about to happen, or why he's so sad. It breaks his heart all over again, as if England himself torn his heart and then stomped on it and then spat on the remaining pieces._

 

 _Matthieu felt Papa's hands on his hair, ruffling_ _his blonde locks._

 

_"Oh, Matthieu. Lumière de mon monde. Mon doux enfant. Je t'aime," Papa rambled, softly like he's afraid anyone else would hear. It's so different from his usual loud, cheerful tone. "Beau fils. Cher bébé."_

 

Oh, Matthew. Light of my world. My sweet child. I love you. Beautiful child. Dear baby.

 

_Over and over, Papa whispers sweet things to him and about how he will always love him and  never forget him. Matthieu doesn't know why it sounded like a goodbye, but he didn't think too much of it._

 

_After all, Papa rarely visits so he always enjoyed the time they spent together._

 

_So Matthieu doesn't question it. The two stood in the clearing, hugging each other and whispering things to each other. They separated hours later with red eyes and cheerful smiles and heavy hearts._

 

_Matthieu doesn't understand why his heart was heavy at the time though._

 

_Nearly 3 centuries later, he still wonders why._

 

* * *

 

Present day Matthew sighs at the sudden flashback. It was a bittersweet day, so long ago. Nearly 3 centuries later, Matthew still thinks about that day. 

 

He wonders if Francis thinks about that day too. Or even remembers it.

 

Not that he'll probably well. No one remembers Canada unless if his people done something bad, or if they mistake him for America. 

 

"Yo, Mattie!" Alfred's loud voice rang from their shared home. Speaking of which. "Want some pizza? I think I ordered too many."

 

"Ordered too many?" Matthew echoes, smiling faintly as he walked over to the living room. "The Alfred I know would eat everything by now."

 

"Cheeky." America pouted, already stacking two slices and eating them. "I just want an excuse to have you here and cuddle with me."

 

"You could've just asked," Matthew laughs slightly, "I would've said yes." 

 

Something glint in Alfred's eyes. Or maybe it's his glasses reflecting the light. "But that's too much work." 

 

Matthew laughs again, his head tilting back slightly with his eyes closed. "Alfred, you silly nation."

 

"With my current president, of course I'm gonna be silly." Alfred said in a remorseful voice before the two burst into laughter. 

 

After calming down, they agreed to watch a movie so they set up what's necessary and picked out what to watch.

 

Matthew made himself a cup of tea, while Alfred chugs a new bottle of Coca Cola. 

 

The movie starts with an explosion and many humans screaming in terror, a terrifying roar, and the stomps of a very giant monster.

 

Matthew doesn't notice, because he's staring intensely at his tea. 

 

It reminds him of someone.

 

* * *

 

 

_"Ah, Canada." The mean looking man sneers, his very bushy eyebrows quirked up. His lips are set in a heavy frown, though Matthieu doesn't know why. He hasn't done anything wrong. "You belong to me now."_

 

_Matthieu nods bashfully. Papa had already told him this. Papa already explained who England was, and why he's taking care of Matthieu and not Papa. Papa already hugged him and said he'll miss him, and that Matthieu will always be in his heart._

 

_But it hurts. Matthieu is sad he can never see his dad again. Matthieu is afraid of this new country, who Papa had cursed out frequently and goes to war with. Matthieu is angry Papa lost the fight and is now losing Matthieu. Matthieu is confused on what will happen next._

 

_Hurt. It hurts the most though. His little heart, beating faster and faster, feels like it's breaking to little pieces. His head hurts, a sharp pain that makes him sad more than hurt. Tears threaten to spill, and Matthieu tried to force them back._

 

_Matthieu glanced at his Papa._

 

_Papa is looking somewhere else, not at him. Matthieu desperately wants to see Papa's deep ocean eyes before he leaves forever._

 

_Papa is still not looking at him._

 

_"Look at me!" England snaps, and Matthieu fearfully snapped his blue eyes back to England's soft grassy green eyes. "When I am talking to you, I expect you to look at me! Is that clear?"_

 

_Matthieu is shaking from fear or tears, or maybe both, but he manages to nod quickly._

 

_England made a "tsk" noise and held his delicately wrapped hands out._

 

_"Well?" He says when Matthieu only stares at it in confusion. "Take my hand, child."_

 

_Matthieu timidly held England's hands. He spared one last look to his Papa and his face fell when he sees that Papa is now leaving._

 

 _Matthieu left Papa that day, without ever seeing his face one last time like he had hoped. Not even the g_ o _odbye hug they shared earlier compares to just seeing Papa's face one last time, so he won't forget it ever. To see those deep blue eyes and that parted long hair, or his stubble that Matthieu likes to touch. Or his smile that reminds him of home, that radiates love and warmness._

 

_Matthieu followed England into the big ship that the older country had came from. It looks so much like Papa's yet so different. The ship easily towers over the both of them. It is filled with humans that look at Matthieu like he's an interesting bug they've never seen before. There's a big flag, with stripes and colors alike Papa's but so different still._

 

_Matthieu willed his tears away as he boarded, his fate tied with the big angry man with bigger eyebrows. It's no use crying now, because he is England's colony now. Even if he doesn't want to be England's colony, he has no choice._

 

_Matthieu at least wanted to see Papa's face one last time, but Papa has left forever without a single glance back._

 

_His heart pang once more and this time, Matthieu isn't strong enough to make his tears go away._

 

_If England noticed, he didn't say a thing._

 

_In fact, maybe he squeezed Matthieu's little hand tighter, maybe in reassurance that everything will be alright. Or maybe it's because he doesn't want Matthieu to get lost in the big ship. Both options make little Matthieu feel just a little, tiny bit better. But only a little. Just a tiny bit better._

 

* * *

 

 

"--If they just worked together, they would've totally defeated the monster," Alfred said, not even realizing that Matthew's mind is somewhere else, "I mean, c'mon dude! Even _I'm_ not stupid enough to just split up. Like, why would they even do that? That's totally so stupid. Actually, I'm the hero, so I would totally split up. I can totally beat up that ugly monster if I want--"

 

Matthew stares at his boyfriend for a long time. He carefully studies his features, as if he hadn't do so enough times.

 

Matthew looks at Alfred's childishly glimmering sky blue eyes, his carefully styled hair and his small ahoge sticking out, his glasses that represents Texas, his nerdy smile. Matthew's gaze shifted down to Alfred's outfit, a simple black tee shirt with a cartoon burger printed in the middle. It's so like Alfred, that Matthew couldn't help but let out a tiny snort.

 

Alfred stopped ranting when he heard Matthew laughing. 

 

"What?" He demanded. "Why are you laughing? I can too totally beat up Godzilla."

 

"Sure, Al," Matthew plays along, laughing softly once again, "sure you can."

 

Alfred's eyes soften as he gazes at his boyfriend. His heart clenches at the sight of Matthew smiling so freely, looking like the perfect picture of an angel sent down to bless humankind.

 

"I can too," he whispers stubbornly.

 

"Yes, you can," Matthew whispers back, bright violet eyes glinting, "because you're my hero."

 

Alfred's cheeks hurt, but he grinned a very wide grin anyway. How can he not, when he has the cutest, nicest, most wonderful nation as his boyfriend?

 

"Because I'm your hero," Alfred agrees, his grin still intact, as he draws closer to Matthew. "Your biggest, most heroic, and most handsome hero."

 

Matthew giggles as Alfred presses soft butterfly kisses along his cheeks, on his nose, throughout his forehead, and down south on his throat. Alfred pecked Matthew's neck, then his Adam's apple, and then his collarbone, and then went back up to kiss his glasses and planted a big kiss on his lips.

 

"A-Al!" Matthew breathes, "T-tha- that tickles."

 

"I know," Alfred grins against Matthew's slender neck, "I know your weakness but you don't know mine."

 

"Oh yeah?" Matthew knows he's being baited, but he gladly led himself to Alfred's hook.

 

"Yeah!" Alfred pulled away from Matthew to stare at him, his grin never fading. "Heroes don't have weaknesses."

 

"Not even this?" Matthew teased. Now it's his turn to press gentle kisses on Alfred's face, distracting Alfred with his kisses while his fingers went to Alfred's side.

 

Alfred smiles proudly, "Nope, not even tha-aAA--" his proud statement was interrupted by Matthew's quick finger work, tickling his most sensitive sides. Matthew is relentless, not stopping even as Alfred begs him to stop.

 

"M-Mattie!! Bro, sto-o-op-p!" Alfred begs, tears in his eyes as his glasses are crooked on his nose as his chest rumbles with loud laughter. His hands meekly tried to stop Matthew's own cruel fingers, but Matthew cackles evilly and continues tickling him.

 

"Never!" Matthew laughs, full on straddling his helplessly flailing boyfriend, keeping him securely in his grip. "Not until you admit you _do_ have a weakness!"

 

"Maaaaattiee~!" Alfred wails. "Stooop it!"

 

"What's the magic word?" Matthew grins down on his boyfriend. His fingers continue to tickle Alfred's sides.

 

"Pleeease!" 

 

"Hmm... I can't quite hear you..."

 

"Aw, c'mon, bro! Aaaahh, not there! Stopitstopitstopit-"

 

"I'm waiting, Alfred!"

 

"You evil little thi-aah, stop it! Okay, please! Please, stop it Mattie, I love you and you're beautiful, and it tickles I can't breathe-" Alfred heaves, breathing heavily as he sweats profusely, his bright blue eyes wide open as his mouth is permanently open from laughing. "--my stomach hurts, oh God, Mattie you're supposed to be nice, stop--"

 

Matthew grins once more. "Okay, I'll stop. I love you too." He laughs his twinkling fairy laugh, his violet eyes closed with mirth.

 

"You're evil," Alfred pouts, sticking his tongue out childishly.

 

"You haven't changed since your colony days," Matthew chuckles.

 

Something glints in Alfred's eyes, and they both share a bittersweet smile.

 

"I never really do," Alfred agrees.

* * *

 

 

_"Hi there!" Alfred greets the new colony with a toothy smile. "I'm America, but you can call me Alfred! What's your name?"_

 

_Matthieu is hiding behind England's waistcoat, shyly staring at the other colony before him. Above him, England heaves a big sigh and crouches down to his level._

 

_"Come on, little colony. Introduce yourself to America." He orders softly, though sharply. Matthieu bitterly compares England's harsh gaze to Papa's soft, loving one._

 

_"Good evening," Matthieu greeted back the way England wants quietly, barely loud enough, "I... I'm Canada. You can call me Matthieu."_

 

_That's the polite thing to say, Papa had told him. But Matthieu doesn't want America or England calling him what Papa had named him. He wants them to call him by his country name, because he feels as if the name Matthieu is for Papa and only Papa._

 

_England made another "tsk" noise. "That won't do. I can't have a French name in my household."_

 

_"But- but it's my name," Matthieu argues fearfully, "Papa named me that when he found me."_

 

 _England's face darkened at the mention of Papa. "I don't care about that French idiot," he snaps, "and you're_ my _colony now. That old shag-bag doesn't own you anymore. I do. Therefore, I can name you whatever I want, and change whatever I want."_

 

_Matthieu sniffled back the helpless tears. Papa never spoke to him in such harsh ways before. He's not used to this harshness. Even Papa's most meanest humans aren't this mean to him._

 

_"That's not fair," protested America, "Arthur, stop being mean to Math- uh, M-Matthew."_

 

_If Matthieu wasn't so scared, or so angry, he would've cracked a smile at America's pronunciation of his name._

 

_England stares at his older colony for a while, thinking. "Alright." He finally decides. Then he turns to Matthieu and gazes sharply at his new colony. "Your name can not be Matthieu as long as you're my colony. Instead, we'll give you a new name."_

 

 _"What? You-" Matthieu felt like his heart is beating faster and faster until it's ready to burst, "-you can't change my name."_ Papa named me Matthieu, it's the only connection I have with him left. _Matthieu didn't say the last part aloud. He's too afraid of what, or rather, how England would react._

 

_"I will not tolerate anything with that grouch," England says, his tone leaving no room for argument, "your name will have to change."_

 

_Matthieu and America both protested._

 

_"But that's what Papa named me," Matthieu said, tearing up again._

 

_"Arthur, you're being mean!" America defended. "I like his name. It sounds pretty."_

 

_"Well I don't like it, neither do I think it's 'pretty'," England replies back with a glare, "and I expect you to be quiet now. No talking back, especially you, America. You've caused enough trouble lately."_

 

_Both colonies shut up though unwillingly._

 

_"Anyway," England continues with authority in his voice, "your name cannot be 'Matthieu' anymore. Instead, we'll change it into a proper English name: Matthew."_

 

 _Matthieu can do nothing but accept his new English, non-French, name._ Matthew. _It sounds stupid. He hates the new name. Matthieu repeats the name in his head, hoping to get used to his new name._ Matthew.

 

_England shows him his new room, right next to America's. It is bare, with the minimum essentials. There are no paintings on the wall, no decorative pieces, no fancy curtains or fancy carpets. Matthieu- now Matthew- is left to his own devices as England left. What is he to do now?_

 

_"Hi, Matthew!" America opens his door without knocking at all. "Wanna be friends? Arthur says you're my new brother, so let's play together."_

 

_Matthew stares at the bright-eyed colony before him. "Okay," he replies, barely above a whisper, "let's be friends."_

 

* * *

 

 

"You think of the past too much," Alfred complains, flicking Matthew's forehead.

 

"Ow," Matthew pouted, "stop being mean to me. I did nothing wrong."

 

"Wha- nothing wrong?" Alfred repeats in disbelief. "Uh, didn't you just tickled me into oblivion because you're an evil thing disguised as an angel?"

 

"No," Matthew giggles, "you must've met my evil twin."

 

"Your evil twin?" Alfred shakes his head, grinning. "You're lucky I love you."

 

"Of course I am." Matthew wraps his hands around Alfred's neck, touching foreheads with his lover. He smiles blissfully. "I'm lucky to have someone like you love me just as I love you."

 

Alfred looks up and his heart skips a beat. Matthew above him, with his plush lips set in a charming smile just filled with love and his violet eyes glimmering with absolute adoration, his nerdy glasses crooked, as his golden blonde hair falls on either sides of his face. He looks like an angel, a mystical fairy, the definition of beauty.

 

Matthew looks down and feels like his heart will burst. Alfred below him, looking at him like he's the best thing since burgers were invented. His sky blue eyes are sparkling with love, his chapped lips grinning handsomely, and his strong biceps securing Matthew. Alfred's signature hairstyle was messy from their little tickling fest, and his face is still red from laughing so hard earlier. Matthew smiles softly before leaning down and giving him a real kiss, not the cute little pecks they shared earlier, but a full on lip-on-lip kiss.

 

"I love you," Alfred says softly when they pulled apart. "I love you and your dorky glasses, and your stupid French hair, and how quiet you are, like a little baby."

 

Matthew can't help the smile. "I love you too," he laughs, "and your equally dorky glasses. And your parted hair. And how loud you are, like a tractor."

 

Alfred gasps in faux anger. "How dare you say that! I can be as quiet as a mouse if I want! A hero can do anything."

 

"Hm," Matthew taps his chin cheekily, "I'm not sure about the quiet thing. But sure."

 

"Meanie." Alfred sticks his tongue out.

 

"It's true though," Matthew sticks his own tongue out too.

 

"Nuh uh." Alfred refuses, shaking his head like a toddler. "You're just being mean to me. Because you're jealous you can't do everything like me."

 

"Whatever, you overgrown child." Matthew rolls his eyes before settling down on Alfred's very solid chest. "I'm tired." He sighs blissfully when Alfred runs his fingers over his hair, softly caressing him.

 

"Your hair is soft." Alfred's chest rumbles as he speaks. Matthew doesn't mind. "You're so cute. The heck."

 

"Hm." Matthew hums, too lazy to properly reply.

 

"You're falling asleep already? Don't leave me by myself, Mattie, you overgrown baby..." Matthew doesn't hear the rest of Alfred's sentence as he drifted off to sleep. He doesn't understand why he's so tired, but he doesn't protest. Alfred's chest is a nice pillow.

 

* * *

 

 

_"Matthew, I'm leaving Arthur. I want to be my own country." Alfred tells him. "He and his people has done enough to my people. I tolerated the raised taxes, and was angry when his stupid soldiers killed my innocent people, but he's gone too far now. He killed my people again, and my people reacted. It's war."_

 

_"Al..." Matthew doesn't know how to start. "He raised your taxes so he can pay off his debt from war. It's not like he has ulterior moves behind them."_

 

_"Yeah, but now he has his stupid soldiers everywhere! They're mistreating my people, and Arthur doesn't care." Alfred growls angrily._

 

_"Doesn't he have those soldiers to protect you from... from your Indians?" Matthew frowns. He had a hard time accepting that Alfred's Natives didn't go along with his people, like himself._

 

_"My own people can protect themselves." Alfred argues. "And he won't let my people settle past the mountains. I'm getting crowded when there's so many land out there."_

 

_"But...but you if you leave to be your own country... we can't be together anymore." Matthew says sadly. "We're best friends, remember? You can't just leave me here with Arthur."_

 

_"So come join me," Alfred proposes excitedly, "be a nation with me. We can make a new country together and we'll be super powerful. We can be called the United States together."_

 

_"Al, I'm sorry but I can't." Matthew refuses sadly. "I can't revolt against Arthur. I'm staying with him."_

 

_"What? But why? He killed my people in Boston, Matthew! It won't be long till he kills your people too. He already raised your taxes too."_

 

_"But my people accepted that it's for the greater good. Well, most of them." Matthew points out. "Please, don't leave."_

 

_Alfred glowers, growing angrier by the minute. But not at Matthew. Never at Matthew. He's angry at Arthur, for raising his taxes unfairly, for mistreating his people, for the Boston Massacre. And especially for having Matthew's undying loyalty. "Why do you like him so much? Why are you so desperate to be with him?"_

 

_"Because," Matthew's blue eyes darkened slightly, "he's my father. I have to be with him, I don't know how to be on my own and neither do you."_

 

_Alfred rolls his eyes. "Really? Because he's your father? Didn't he take you away from Francis against your will almost a decade ago?"_

 

_Immediately, Alfred regrets his harsh words when Matthew's head went down, not meeting his own anymore._

 

_"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, "I didn't realize how- I mean, I didn't mean to say-"_

 

_"Save it." Matthew's usually soft, peacefully nice voice was now filled with barely kept anger. "I refuse to be with you. I'm staying with Arthur. I can't lose another father, not after Papa."_

 

_Alfred felt his heart rip to shreds. He never want to be the reason Matthew sheds tears. He just got too in the moment. "I'm sorry, really. But please, Matthew, I can't deal with Arthur being like this to me and my people. I'm declaring my independence. So just join me, we can be the most powerful country together."_

 

_Matthew shook his head miserably. "I can't lose you-"_

 

_"So come with me and forget that stupid British idiot!"_

 

_"-But I can't lose my father either."_

 

_The two colonies were silent for a moment. Alfred stares at Matthew in disbelief, and Matthew just stares down on the ground sadly._

 

_"Fine."  Alfred says at last, quiet and sounding truly defeated. For a moment, Matthew hoped that Alfred had decided against revolting. "I'm declaring my independence without you. I won't attack you, and I won't let my people hurt you, but I can't live with England anymore. I'm really sorry, Matthew."_

 

_A tear slips down Matthew's face. "I-I understand, Alfred. Please, be careful."_

 

_Alfred straighten his shoulder and looked straight at Matthew. "I hope you understand that one day, Arthur is a real pain in the butt sometimes. When I'm a country and you need help declaring your own independence, I will always back you up with my army."_

 

_Matthew won't ever declare against England. He would gladly stay a colony under England forever. But Alfred's sweet promise was comforting to hear. "Okay," he whispers, "I can't help you in the war, but I'll be hoping for your win. Please be careful, and don't get yourself or your people killed."_

 

_"I promise."_

 

_On April 19, 1775, Alfred's people, called the Americans, fired their first shots on Arthur's British soldiers. Then the American Revolution starts._

 

_Matthew miserably stood by England's side as Alfred, now known as the United States, stares at him in shock and betrayal on the other side of the battle._

 

_Technically, Matthew wasn't fighting alongside England. His people are satisfied with the Quebec Act of 1774. He is not taking part of the war. He's just here alongside England because England demanded his presence on the battlefield against Alfred._

 

_And with his decision to stay with England, Matthew can't refuse._

 

_It's horrible, to see Alfred's absolutely shocked face that just screams sadness and betrayal. It's horrible to hear England's cruel chuckle, and he slowly realizes why England wanted him on the battlefield with no weapon to defend himself against he Americans. It's horrible to realize that he's here, because England wants to surprise Alfred and perhaps lower his guard._

 

_Matthew wants to be anywhere but here, but he can't refuse against England. After all, he refused to side with Alfred just to stay with England. In the back of his mind, Matthew wonders if he should've taken Alfred's offer._

 

_Around December of 1775, Alfred's American soldiers invaded Quebec, Matthew's biggest province._

 

_The betrayal hurts, it cuts deep in Matthew's heart. He wonders if this is what Alfred feels when they met each other on opposite sides of the battle of Lexington._

 

_Even though the invasion was a failed attempt, it still hurts that Alfred broke his promise._

 

_It hurts even more when France, his Papa, sided with Alfred on February 6, 1778._

 

_The two countries he cared deeply for are fighting against himself and Arthur. Matthew doesn't know who to side with anymore, but his people chose to remain neutral. So he did exactly that, even though it hurts._

 

_It hurts deeply. And it's painful, but somehow, Matthew feels as if it's his fault._

 

_He left France a decade ago, albeit against his will. He refuses to side with America, because he can't lose another father figure in his life._

 

_Now, both his best friend and his Papa are sided against his other father. And he can't really do a thing._

 

* * *

 

 

When Matthew opens his eyes, he realized he's in bed and his glasses are on the drawer next to the bed. He looked around the slightly blurry room and his eyes landed on Alfred.

 

Alfred was fast asleep next to him, in his dorky pajamas with printed burgers, and drool running down his chin. His eyes are closed as he smiles in his dream, his strong arms are hugging Matthew tightly.

 

A closer look and Matthew realizes it's 2 in the morning. He doesn't know why he woke up at this random time.

 

Matthew waves that off and turns around fully to Alfred. After softly gazing at Alfred's features, Matthew feels his eyelids dropping.

 

After pressing a soft kiss filled with absolute adoration and love against Alfred's lips, Matthew nestled down in their bed and heaves a small sigh before drifting off to sleep again.

 

The next day, he woke up to the scent of something burning, the fire alarm going off wildly, and Alfred's loud cursing from the kitchen downstairs.

 

Matthew lets out a soft chuckle, because how can he not when his boyfriend is so thoughtful yet so dorky?

 

For someone who doesn't get remembered often, Matthew remembers quite a lot and quite far back too.

 

Alfred loving him is just one of them, and he's thankful for it.

 

After laying down in bed for a few more seconds, Matthew slips his glasses on and went downstairs to help his helplessly lost boyfriend with breakfast.

 

The kiss they share was ruined by bad morning breath, but honestly? Neither of them cared, because after that kiss was followed by several others. And if the last few kisses weren't on lips, rather some place else, well... that's none of anyone else's business, now is it?

 

"I love you."

 

"I love you more."

 

And the following food fight is also no one else's business. Nor is the make up kiss they shared.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and please drop some kudos and comments thanks. I'll appreciate even a simple thumbs up.


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